


The Heat That Drives the Light

by vesuviannights



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: AFAB, Female Reader, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 05:58:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20187430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesuviannights/pseuds/vesuviannights
Summary: You return home from a long day, expecting Muriel and Asra to already be asleep. What you find instead is that they are waiting for you, Asra on his knees, stroking himself while Muriel makes the most delicious noises that awaken your own arousal and pull you in.





	The Heat That Drives the Light

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day #1 of Poly Week on my Tumblr (@vesuviannights). Anon wanted the prompts "Prove it, then" and "Yeah? Gonna look into my pretty eyes when you come?", with Asra/MC/Muriel and a female/afab reader. All 3 are in a consenting poly relationship with the other 2.

You step into the doorway of the bedroom to find them by the bed, Asra on his knees before Muriel, sucking him off with slurps and groans and movements that are in no way graceful or apologetic.

Muriel’s hair is tied back from the day’s work, but it’s falling in pieces all over his face, into his dazed eyes as they flutter open and closed from the sensation. His bottom lip is between his teeth as he leans back on his hands and gently thrusts up into Asra’s mouth.

You watch from the door way, throat dry, suddenly too hot for the layers you had donned for the winters evening. Shrugging off your cloak, your scarf, you place your hand on your abdomen and begin to move it downward, unable to wrench your eyes from the scene before you.

You watch as Asra reaches up to cup Muriel’s sack, rolling it between his lithe fingers, and Muriel’s response is to thrust—suddenly, a little violent—up into Asra’s mouth. Asra pulls back with a gasp before he can choke. Muriel manages to sputter out an apology but it’s clear he isn’t really paying attention to much else except what is occurring to his stiff, damp cock.

The sheets beneath him are bunched in his fists. He is keening and moaning and grunting, egging Asra’s every whim and movement on. Asra has himself in his hand, stroking himself with long, taunting movements. You can spot the bead of pre-cum at his tip, and lick your lips as you imagine the taste of it. It is this, more than anything, that finally sees a whimper escape from your throat before you can swallow it back.

Muriel hears you first, body jerking at the sudden noise, but as his eyes settle on you the tension leaves his body almost as quickly as it appeared, and his eyes darken several shades at the sight of you touching yourself beneath your trousers, your hand moving your arousal round, fingertips circling your clit.

He growls and thrusts into Asra’s mouth, and this time the magician takes all of him. You can see the bulge of Muriel in his throat, and he holds it there while stroking himself until he has to pull back for air with a gasp. His lips close back around Muriel’s tip, swollen and red, before pulling off with a soft pop.

Asra turns his gaze to you, arousal and mischief dancing in his eyes.

“You were meant to be back much earlier,” he murmurs, his voice a little throatier than normal.

“I—” You swallow a moan. You’re still playing with yourself, can’t seem to stop, even though Asra has stopped all of his own movements on both himself and Muriel. “There were customers. And paperwork. And Julian doing something dramatic in the square.”

Muriel snorts. “Of course he was.”

Asra stands and walks to you, ignoring the indignant and impatient growl from Muriel at being left high and dry. He cups the back of your head, kisses you with all of his usual intensity, coupled with the taste of Muriel that he is now sharing with you. His hand joins yours between your legs, edging you on as you slip two fingers into your aching hole. 

“Poor Muriel has been suffering this whole time,” Asra tells you. 

“You’ve been waiting for me?” 

“Always. Come over, my love.”

Asra pulls your hand out of your trousers, ignoring your protests as much as he ignored Muriel, and pulls you back over to the bed.

You lean forward and kiss Muriel in greeting, tongue sweeping into his mouth. He sucks gently on it, just the way he knows you like, and your knees buckle underneath the weight of you. 

He catches you against his chest, murmuring his delight at your response, and slowly lets you slide down his body until you are on your knees beside Asra, Muriel’s cock bobbing impatiently between the two of you. 

“Is Asra going to let you come?” You ask him, all innocence.

“I was waiting for you,” Muriel answers evenly, not taking your bait. “I can come whenever I want.”

“Oh? Whenever you want?"

“Whenever I want.”

“Prove it, then.”

You take the head of him between your lips, suckling gently, humming so that the vibrations travel through onto him. When you feel him twitch, when you hear him attempt and fail to stutter out your name, you know it’s time to push on and take more of him.

Asra settles down beside you, legs wide, one elbow propped up on the bed so he can watch you as he strokes himself with lazy movements. He is smiling, murmuring his encouragement, telling you both how wonderful you look.

“More—more, _please_—” Muriel growls, begs, through clenched teeth. “I need to be deeper, I want to feel you all around me.”

You can never take Muriel’s full length into your mouth. He’s a little too big, and you’re not as practised as Asra in that area, but you always try, because you know he loves the feel of being so deep inside of you, the sight of his length bulging in your throat as you struggle to hold it there, and it’s something he doesn’t get very often.

You hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat, taking him in until you can no longer breathe, but it’s still not the whole of him. You hold him there as he strokes your hair with shaking hands, while he grunts to you his praise of how good it feels. Asra shudders beside the two of you, and you look over to him with your watering eyes.

Muriel wants the attention though, that _look_, and he takes your face between his palms and pulls you off his cock to tilt your gaze up to him. He curses at the sight of you, breathing heavy, strings of saliva still connecting your lips to his swollen head.

“I love to see you like this,” he tells you, thrusting gently into your hands as you take him once more, cupping his sack, pulling his cock with firm strokes. “Pretty eyes all wet for me, gasping for breath. I—” He grunts, has to pause to tighten his jaw. “I love it when you try to take my cock so deep.”

“Yeah?” You grin up at him as you draw his torture out, thumb sweeping over his tip. His cock twitches in your hand, and he groans in response, his entire body trembling from the anticipation. “Will you look into my pretty eyes when you come?”

He nods, the movement jerking and barely-there, like an afterthought to everything else. You part your lips to present your tongue to him, the head of his cock resting there as you stroke and cup and pull until he finally erupts with a growl, fists bunched in the sheets behind him as he comes all over your tongue in white-hot spurts.

You moan in approval at the salty taste of him, the heat that shoots through your body as some of his seed misses your waiting, greedy little tongue and hits your chin and your cheek. You close your mouth to swallow and lick your lips, savouring the taste.

The action is barely complete before Asra digs his hand into your hair and turns you toward him, kissing you with a merciless, delving tongue that sweeps up Muriel’s taste as he groans and rocks against your thigh, his own orgasm tearing through him.

He comes all over his hand, and yours as you reach forward to help him along, and in the heat of it all—the sounds of their groans, their praise, the sight of their flushed faces—you barely even care that you didn’t even manage to take care of yourself, that the walls of your pussy are still fluttering and begging for something to fill them, something to milk dry. 

Asra finally pulls back from kissing you to leave a single kiss on the tip of your nose. His thumb swipes along your bottom lip and the corner of your mouth, wiping away the spots of Muriel’s seed that you hadn’t caught with your greedy tongue.

“I like it when you come home late,” Asra tells you.

Muriel shifts, falling back onto the bed to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t.”

“Maybe while Asra is teaching you dirty talk,” you say, curling your hands around his knees as you look him over. “He can teach you a little about delayed gratification." 

Muriel moves his mouth in a way that looks like he is silently mocking you, but the smile that curves one side of his lips after tells his true feelings. 

Asra has already stood to move off, and a few moments later you hear the sound of running water in the bathroom. Your body, without the haze of lust and the sight of Asra fucking Muriel with his perfect, pink lips, seems to remember your day. The length of it, the tiresome bother of the people, the late hour.

So, instead of following after Asra to clean up and prepare for bed like you know you should, you crawl up the length of the bed to stretch out beside Muriel. He murmurs his approval, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he takes you up in one arm and pulls you into his chest.

The two of you fall asleep like that, Muriel’s fingertips tracing your spine through the fabric of your shirt, the sounds of Asra’s shower pattering like a soft rainstorm in the background.


End file.
